


And What of Me?

by Daerwyn



Series: A Collection of Drabbles by Helmaninquiel [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Banishment, F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5089100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Éomer’s expression when you tell him you are having his child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And What of Me?

Word had reached you through the snake Grima Wormtongue. Banishment. And you had felt so violently ill with the news that you had sprayed your entire breakfast over Grima’s boots. Your heartfelt apologies were as meaningful as a pile of horse dung.

And as a maid hurriedly cleaned up the mess, Grima fleeing angrily, your husband strode through with a matching anger, only not directed at you.

“Wormtongue has told me,” you spoke as the maid cleaned. “What happened?”

“He will not fight against the Orcs that are raiding our lands,” Eomer spoke through gritted teeth as he began to grab things from his trunk, light things that could easily be carried horseback. “And when I insisted that we must, he has cast me away. Me, his own nephew – his own heir! He’s only trying to cast me aside so he can marry Eowyn, and be the heir to the throne himself.”

You knew he did not speak of the King. “You think he is trying to kill …” Your words faltered and you glanced towards the maid. “Leave it. My husband and I require privacy.” The woman said nothing, merely nodding and slipping out immediately. You touched Eomer’s arm, and he paused in his packing. “You should not speak of such things aloud. It will get you killed.”

“That is the intention with sending me away-”

“And what of me?” The words left you before you really understood what you meant by them yourself. You could not ride with him – the Riders of Rohan were extremely skilled in the art of horseback, and you only knew to ride, not to fight or to ride for days on end. And in your state… Eomer glanced to look at you, taking in all of your small frame compared to his towering one. And he took your hands gently, a frown touching his features.

“You must stay here with my sister, keep each other well looked after. I do not trust Grima Wormtongue. Eowyn knows enough swordsmanship to get you to the next village, should it come to that. I will leave with the few that are still loyal to the true intentions of Rohan. If you must flee for your safety, then do so in the night. We have friends amongst those here. They will help you-”

“Do you think I will need to flee for my safety?” you asked, concerned. If that was the case, you were better off leaving now.

“I fear it may happen in the coming months. Perhaps by then, the King will get better and he will cast Wormtongue away… But for now we dare not hope.”

“I do not wish for you to go.” Eomer’s honey eyes lowered, and he looked just as pained as your heart felt. “Perhaps Eowyn or I could talk sense to the King-”

“No. That would only land us in far more trouble.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, his thin beard welcome with the familiar tickle. “Do not fret. I will have enough men at my side to keep me from getting hurt. Theodred is in poor health, but Eowyn feels confident he will recover. With his recovery…” You did not need him to finish. With Theodred’s recovery, there would be another male figure that threatened the throne from Wormtongue. And a threat was most vulnerable when ill. “I want you to stay out of things, keep your head down, do as your told. It’s safer that way-”

“I know,” you insisted. “But if … if Theodred doesn’t wake-”

“Then you and Eowyn must stand strong together.”

“How long until you must leave?”

“I was given until sundown. It is near time.” And he had yet to pack things that would keep him warm or well fed. “A few of the men are skilled hunters, and we’ll have plenty. I dare say, we may even eat better than we do here.”

But the possibility of him coming back… Even you knew it was slim, just as he did. Wormtongue was a snake that had slithered into all of the King’s cracks, and made them firm once more with his own poison. “There is something I must tell you, then, since we have so little time.”

“I love you,” Eomer murmured, as if he seemed to guess what you were saying. But your lion was brave, but he was also a man.

“And I love you,” you returned. “But what I wish to tell you is…” You took a deep breath and when you met his eyes, his honey gaze filled you with warmth. “I'm… I’m with child.”

Eomer didn’t seem to comprehend for a few seconds, and when he did his mouth opened in a wordless whisper, and he shut it again. Once he seemed to grasp just what exactly he wanted to say, he instead decided a kiss spoke better. It lingered on your lips long after he had distanced himself and sank to the feather-filled bed. “My child?”

“I’ve missed my bleedings for a month now, and … I visited the healer, and he’s confirmed that I show the signs,” you nearly rushed out. “I was going to tell you this morning, but I got pulled away to help Eowyn with Theodred and-”

“There is no need to apologize,” Eomer said quietly. He closed his eyes, as if burdened, and slid off of the bed, onto his knees in front of you. And his hands came up to your sides, his face level with your navel. “I will come back for the both of you,” he spoke firmly. “Once I have found a location that is safe.”

He kissed the fabric covering your stomach, before rising and kissing you hard, passionate and with his last goodbyes. Tears prickled your eyes, but when he stepped away, turning back to the task of packing, you pushed them back. You had to be strong. With Eomer gone, Edoras was twice as dangerous. You watched as he threw things into a satchel. A few notes, a blanket, some clothing. And you sat on the bed, your legs no longer able to support you the more the decree became final.

“If you do not return before they are born, what names would you like?” you found yourself asking.

Eomer paused, and you could see that the determined resolve faltered. “I should… I should very much like any name, so long as I know it.”

“If… I do not know if it will reach you, but I will send a raven to you once they are born.”

“Do not endanger yourself-”

“A harmless raven has done nothing but caw at us,” you teased. “I should think I’ll be just fine.” He sighed, but seemed to agree. He threw the pack over his shoulder, everything buckled into place and finished. “I love you, my lion.”

“And I love you.” He requested you not watch him leave. And so you let the maid back into the room to finish cleaning before you walked across the hall to Theodred’s room, where Eowyn was sitting, kneeling at the bedside with a wet cloth. The windows were open to allow for fresh air, and the man was relieved of his armor, but the wound … the wound still was deadly if it did not heal soon. Through the open windows you could see the last true Riders of Rohan galloping in the distance of the Gap. And with them, your love.

“Have they gone?” Eowyn asked.

“Yes,” you answered, sinking onto the floor beside her. She was crying, and though she worked diligently on keeping the prince’s fever down, she was still overwhelmingly upset.

“He will not get away with this.”

“No, he will not,” you agreed. It was the the brightest hope you had agreed to in the last few hours. And all hope had a path of light to follow.


End file.
